“I’ll be okay,” I reassure her, then look to the right when Malo comes into the room with his hand in a large bright-orange bag of chips.
“I thought you were helping outside.” Myla frowns at him as he walks to where I’m sitting and takes a seat next to me.
“I was, but now I’m in here hanging with April,” he tells her, pulling some of the fluffy white blanket covering my lap over to rest on his, then looks at me. “What are we watching?”
“Nothing.” I laugh, handing him the remote, and he starts flipping through channels while Myla sighs.
“Do you want me to get you some water?” Mom asks, touching the top of my head, and I take my eyes off the TV and start to tell her no, but Malo answers before me.
“Yes, please. Actually, can I get a soda?”
“Malo, I’m going to let your brother kick your ass like he’s been threatening to do,” Myla snaps at her son.
“I said please,” he tells his mom with a fake wounded look.
“Do you see what I have to deal with?” Myla asks my Mom, and she presses her lips together to keep from laughing.
“How’d I know I’d find you in here?” Maxim grumbles at his brother as he steps into the room. “I thought you were helping us outside.”
“It’s hot out, and I got hungry. No one should have to work under those conditions.”
Hearing my mom snort, I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing, and Maxim’s eyes come to me and soften. “Is he bothering you?”
“Of course I’m not bothering her. She loves my company,” Malo tells him, sounding offended.
“Malo,” Maxim growls, and Myla steps between her sons.
“Come on,” she orders Malo, snatching the bag of chips from his hands. “Before your brother really does kill you, come help me upstairs.”
“Fine.” He starts to get up, then stops and focuses on the TV, and I look to see what caught his attention. At first, all I see is a cute brunette news anchor of one of the most popular late morning shows standing in front of the camera in workout gear and assume he’s checking her out. But then I see the bold script at the bottom of the screen. Panic Pants Could Save Your Life.
“Oh my God,” I breathe as Malo grabs the remote and turns up the volume.
“So, these are Panic Pants.” The woman turns to her side, resting her hand on her hip. “They look like your everyday workout leggings, but they’re not. During an emergency, you pull this cord.” She does, and the pants start to shriek for a moment before she reattaches it. “The sound they make is supposed to startle the person attacking you, giving you some time to get away.” She turns back to face the camera. “As an avid runner, I can’t tell you how happy I was to find these on the market. And although I hope I never have to find out if they work, I do feel safer with them on, especially when I run in the mornings before the sun is up.”
“Do they have them for men?” A handsome guy with graying hair dressed in a suit laughs as he comes on screen with a rolled-up stack of papers in his hand.
“They don’t, but you would probably fit in a woman’s size medium,” she tells him with a flip of her hair, and Malo barks out a laugh while the guy’s face turns red.
“Well.” The man turns to look at the camera and clears his throat. “You heard it here first. Get your Panic Pants, guys, then come back here where we will be talking with Anne Hathaway about her new movie.”
“That guy is a dick,” Malo says when it cuts to a commercial, then he grins. “Not that I give a fuck, because I’m famous, bitches!” He jumps and grabs his mom around the waist, lifting her into the air and making her laugh as she smacks his shoulder and demands to be put down.
Smiling, I watch the two of them, then turn when Maxim comes to sit next to me, carefully placing his arm around my shoulders.
“Your brother is crazy,” I tell him, curling into his side.
“I know,” he mutters back, then he looks to the entryway for the living room when the doorbell goes off. “More visitors,” he grumbles and I pat his chest, since I got home this morning, people have been stopping by nonstop.
“I got it,” my mom tells us as Myla finally gets free from her son. A moment later, Mom comes back into the room with Harris and Molly following her carrying flowers and balloons.
“Hi.” Harris gives a one-handed wave to the room, then focuses on me, looking a tad freaked—probably because of the bruising and bandage wrapped around my head. Heck, when I saw myself in the mirror for the first time before I was able to shower, I freaked out too.
“I’m okay,” I tell him while my mom, Myla, and Malo all leave the room, and I carefully stand as Maxim gets up and takes the flowers setting them on the side table where there a few others. As I hug Harris, Maxim get close and places his hand against my lower back to hold me up like he’s afraid I might fall or break.
“You don’t look too bad,” Harris tells me, and I laugh as he rocks me back and forth. “Molly and I have been worried about you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He lets me go so Molly can hug me, and she does it quick, like she’s afraid to touch me.
“We wanted to see you in the hospital, but my mom didn’t think it was a good idea to visit you there,” Molly tells me, fiddling with her hands in front of her.
“Your mom was right.” I sit, and Maxim places the blanket back over my lap while the two of them take a seat in the oversized sapphire-blue velvet chair that Myla picked and I fell in love with. “It was kind of chaotic. I’m glad you both waited to come see me at home,” I tell her honestly. The truth is I cried for the first two days after I woke up, not for me but for Shell and the fact that I wasn’t able to help her. Even now I can’t help but to wonder if I didn’t mess up by not leaving the house and calling the police. She nods, then looks at my throat and flinches so I drag the blanket up my lap and hold it to my neck so she doesn’t get uncomfortable. “So what are you up to today? Anything good?”
“We’re going to the travel agent to start planning our vacation,” Harris says with a smile while taking his wife’s hand.
“That’s exciting. Have you decided where you’re going?”
“We’re going to take a Disney Cruise to the Bahamas.” Molly wiggles like she can barely contain her excitement. “I’ve never been on a boat or to the beach before.”
“You’re not going to want to come home,” I promise, then cover my mouth when I yawn.
“We should let you rest.” Harris stands, and Molly gets up with him. I want to tell him they can stay, but I know before long I’ll end up passing out. Plus, Molly’s visibly uncomfortable.
“How are you guys getting to the travel agent?”
“Molly’s mom is driving us, she’s outside,” he tells me and I nod.
“Well next week when things calm down, we’ll have dinner.”
“Sure.” Harris walks over and leans down to give me a short hug while Molly just waves.
After Maxim comes back from walking them out, he sits next to me, then reaches down so he can bring my feet to his lap.